


I Can Make You A Man

by Mars_McKie



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Rocky Horror Picture Show, The Rocky Horror Show - O'Brien
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, Costumes, Crossdressing, First Time, Halloween, House Party, Humiliation, Lingerie, M/M, Midnight Matinee, Non-Consensual Tickling, Smut, Tickling, Whipped Cream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 13:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6241489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mars_McKie/pseuds/Mars_McKie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras had hoped to avoid Halloween like he had every other year, but Combeferre and Jehan manage to drag him along to a midnight matinee of the Rocky Horror Picture Show at Courfeyrac's house. While there he is ritually humiliated, sacrificed and has his virginity stripped of him by the Amis' own Frank n Furter...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sacrificing the Virgin

Enjolras couldn’t quite figure out how he had let himself be dragged into this. Any other night he would have simply buried himself deeper into his books and pretended not to hear his phone buzzing but when Combeferre and Jehan had turned up on his doorstep seeking him out, begging and pleading (and even threatening to tie him up and put him in a sack) he had finally relented to join the other Amis for Halloween.

They walked over to where the party was taking place at Courfeyrac’s house and Enjolras felt relieved that neither of them were particularly dressed up, both of them in black suits and Combeferre in a fez while Jehan wore sunglasses and a black wig. Enjolras himself wore his usual shirt, red waistcoat and trousers and could in no way pass for anything remotely Halloween-y.

However, when the front door at Courfeyrac’s was opened by Joly in a tuxedo that seemed to be made entirely from sequins, Enjolras started to realise he was missing something. Already gathered in the living room were Lesgles - wearing a tux with a humped back and a wig around his already bald head-, Musichetta -in a maid outfit and brandishing a feather duster-, Eponine -in a long pink shirt and carrying an ice cream tray-, Bahorel -in a leather jacket and a red slash of blood across his forehead- and Feuilly -who was sat in the corner of the room in a wheelchair with a blanket over his legs.

It was clear that they had all gone to great lengths with their costumes yet Enjolras remained completely oblivious as to what they were dressed up as.

None of them seemed to mind that he hadn’t come in costume (according to Bahorel there had been a costume meeting organised to decide who came dressed as what) but Musichetta simply placed a black rose bud decoration in his lapel and said he was a wedding guest.

“Um, great,” he said, fixing the rose in place.

“If you don’t like it I’m sure we could find you something else,” Bahorel offered. “Courfeyrac might have a tuxedo in his wardrobe if you want to be a phantom like Jehan.”

“It’s not that, I just don’t understand what it is we’re all meant to be dressed up as,” Enjolras said.

“Oh, did Combeferre not tell you? We’re doing a midnight matinee of The Rocky Horror Picture Show!” Eponine explained with a wide smile. A midnight matinee didn’t sound particularly appealing to Enjolras, not when he’d hoped to get in a morning of studying before his shift at the Café Musain. Plus he’d never seen The Rocky Horror Picture Show before, only knowing that it was a cult classic.

“I don’t know if I’ll stay that late, maybe just a few hours…”

“There’s no backing out now, we’ve got you here. You’re trapped until we let you go!” Courfeyrac walked into the room and Enjolras felt his eyebrows leap into his hair as he was stood there in nothing but sneakers and gold hot pants. The least that could be said was that he had the body to pull it off as everybody else in the room whooped and cheered. “Is everybody here yet?”

“We’re just waiting on Marius and Cosette; they’re getting a taxi over,” Feuilly reported from his corner.

“Where’s Grantaire?” Enjolras asked, counting the heads in the room and noticing that the loudest of their group was missing.

“He’s just upstairs getting ready,” Courfeyrac said, adding to Eponine- “I think he might be in need of some _assistance_.”

Eponine rolled her eyes. “Back in a minute.”

She went up the stairs and Enjolras remembered that Grantaire was indeed renting Courfeyrac’s spare room right now. Their host turned back to him. “Have you got a drink yet? Don’t even think about sloping off or we’ll tape you to Feuilly’s wheelchair!”

“So long as you don’t damage it; I’ve got to take it back to the hospital tomorrow,” Joly reminded him drolly. The doorbell rang and Lesgles leapt up to answer it, giving a sort of routine with Marius and Cosette who were at the door (Marius in a shirt and sweater-vest, Cosette in a pretty pink dress). Enjolras was led through to the kitchen by Courfeyrac where he was handed a beer from the fridge. It wouldn’t have been his first choice of beverage but it was cool and helped ease his nerves as he stood awkwardly against the worktop. Bahorel followed them through and started to pull items from the cupboards.

“For the torches we can just use the lights on our phones,” he said as he routed around. “Playing cards are in the living room, we’ve got toilet paper and rubber gloves- where do you keep your rice?”

“I’m not letting you use my rice! I’m the one who has to clean all this up in the morning!” Courfeyrac protested.

“At least you can go straight to bed tonight,” Joly said resentfully, eyeing up Courfeyrac’s hot pants. “Spare a thought for those of us who have to walk home in our costumes.”

There was a cacophony of cheers and wolf whistles from the hallway and Joly left them to see what was happening. Bahorel closed the cupboards.

“Perhaps if we shredded some of the newspaper we could use that as confetti instead…”

“No,” Courfeyrac said with a definite note. “I have to clean it up, and I haven’t forgotten about last year at Lesgles and Joly’s where you managed to punch a light out doing the Time Warp.” Bahorel could only grin sheepishly in reply.

Enjolras took a sip of his beer, resigning himself to a lost night, and immediately spat it out in shock at what had just strolled into the kitchen.

Grantaire was an absolute vision in women’s lingerie- black satin underwear, garter belt holding up silk stockings, peep toe heels, fishnet gloves, a black velvet corset and winged cape. He’d kept his hairblack and curly in a halo around his head with a slight touch of make up on his face which helped to define his cheekbones and hide a certain amount of stubble. Complete with red lips, eyeliner and shadow and a heart tattoo painted onto his upper left arm Enjolras wanted to say that he looked ridiculous, but the corset had a way of hugging at his chest and waist in all the right ways and the heels made his legs look longer, extenuated by the stockings.

 _He looked fabulous_.

The spray of beer hung in the air between them and Grantaire stood with an amused look on his face as he allowed Enjolras to look him up and down. Enjolras realised he was staring and averted his gaze to the cooker. Grantaire popped his hip and grinned widely. “You like?”

Enjolras tried to compose his face back to his usual expression of distain that he so often regarded Grantaire with whenever he shot down one of his ideas at the Café and shot back with “Have you gone completely insane?”

Courfeyrac and Bahorel rushed in with a tirade of compliments as Grantaire pouted. “Pass us a beer- I’m going to need it if I’m going to be wearing these heels all night.” Courfeyrac obliged and he necked a good half of the bottle in one.

“Ease up- you’ll do yourself an injury getting drunk in those shoes.”

“So what? You can always carry me upstairs to your room- my most _beautiful creation_ _!_ ,” Grantaire smiled wryly at Courfeyrac, placing his hands coyly around his bare waist before turning his attention back to Enjolras. “I would have made more of an effort if I’d known our sainted chief would be coming. To what do we owe this great pleasure of your company?”

Enjolras shifted his gaze uneasily, not quite knowing where to look. “I’m just here to see the film and then go.”

Bahorel turned his head at this. “I didn’t know you were a Rocky Horror fan.”

Glad of someone else to look at, Enjolras replied “I’m not; I’ve never seen it before.”

Bahorel and Courfeyrac’s eyes went as wide as coins and Grantaire wore a shit-eating grin. Enjolras felt like he’d put his foot in it but couldn’t figure out why not seeing the film should be a terrible thing. “What?”

“You’re a virgin!” Grantaire said, his smile now predatory.

Enjolras felt his face burn red. Where did Grantaire get off making comments like that? More to the point, how had he known? Or had it simply been a guess? “W-what?”

“He means you’re a virgin to the show- you’ve never seen it before,” Bahorel explained quickly.

“What’s this about virgins?” Musichetta asked, walking through from the living room with a number of empty bottles.

“Enjolras is a virgin- we’re having a ritual for him later,” Grantaire informed her.

“There’s no need for a ritual-” Enjolras started nervously.

“I’m afraid you don’t get a choice in the matter,” Musichetta informed him. “Now come here-” She took her red lipstick from her bag and -placing a hand delicately on his shoulder- drew a V on his forehead. He inspected his reflection in the window.

“Ah ah, you have to leave that on until you’ve finished the film now,” Grantaire wagged a finger at him and clasped his wrist playfully in his gloved hand, stopping him in the process of wiping off the lipstick mark.

“Everybody’s here so shall we get started?” Musichetta asked. Grantaire kept his hand around Enjolras’ wrist and led him back through to the living room. The hours in the lead up to the film followed a pre-determined order of drinking and non-drinking games with fag and toilet breaks at intervals. They held an orgasm contest (Courfeyrac and Musichetta tied for first), a game where they were in pairs and had to pop balloons without using their hands (Feuilly came up with a system on placing the balloons on his lap and Enjolras would sit on them to pop them) and a simple boat race (Enjolras’ team won and the losing team had to down another pint each).

After this they lined up for a card game whereby they had to get the card from one end of the line to the other by using only their lips. Enjolras positioned himself carefully near the end of his team’s line with Eponine behind him and was annoyed when Grantaire positioned himself in front of him but made no comment.

The game started and the two teams set off. When Grantaire received the team’s card from Marius he turned around to face Enjolras. It was awkward already with Grantaire being taller than him in the heels but as Enjolras leaned his head forward the card refused to become unstuck from Grantaire’s lip gloss. With both their lips pressed against the card they were basically kissing. In an effort to pass on the card, Grantaire grabbed Enjolras by the waist, pulling his body towards him so that the shorter man’s neck arched backwards.

Their bodies pressed against one another and Enjolras could feel his face burning red again. He could feel the ribbing of the corset against his own stomach, the sleek feel of the stockings against his trousers and _that was definitely not a phone in a pocket!_

The hand behind his back kept him from moving away and Enjolras growled as Grantaire ground his hips slightly, his silk-encased cock rubbing against his own through his trousers. Finally Grantaire managed to slide his lips off of the card and -ever so slightly relieved that the arm around his waist had vanished- Enjolras slowly turned to face Eponine, the card delicately balanced with his head tilted back. She easily plucked the card from him, her own pink lip gloss sticking to the card in much the same way that Grantaire's had and -thanks to the fact that on the other team Joly had spent much of his time complaining about the hygiene issues of the game- they won.

“Nice one Apollo!” Grantaire beamed, playfully ruffling Enjolras' hair and he realised with a flush that his dick was straining slightly against the zip on his trousers. Ignoring it profusely he turned back to the game which rounded off with the downing of pints by the losers and then dispersing for fags and drinks. Enjolras found himself next to Combeferre.

“Alright chief? Enjoying yourself?”

“Oddly... yeah,” Enjolras nodded. He did find himself quite surprised at how much he was enjoying kicking back from his books and being surrounded by his mates. The fact that he’d abstained from much of the alcohol drinking by not losing most of the games helped (his only real loss had been during the orgasm contest where he would have failed completely had it not been for the timid Marius coming spectacularly last) and after so many months of set backs in his life the sense of victory helped his feeling of elation tonight. Although, he thought, he wouldn’t go so far as to blow off his books every time there was a get together.

The Amis started to return to the living room, discussing what the next game should be when Grantaire and Courfeyrac strolled through from the kitchen bearing two plates of whipped cream.

“Time to sacrifice the virgin!” Grantaire declared loudly and the room cheered but Enjolras felt his stomach drop. He’d forgotten about the threats made in the kitchen, the lipstick mark on his forehead. He tried to dart away but Bahorel and Musichetta suddenly appeared on either side of him and had his arms in a vice grip, leading him towards the low table where the pies had been set.

“Trixie, if you’d like to do the honours?” Courfeyrac addressed Eponine who stepped forward with a grin.

“Tonight, my unconventional conventionalists!” she declared to the room. “We are gathered here to adopt a new virgin into the Rocky Horror family. Our beloved leader Enjolras!” A cheer went around the room and Enjolras knew his face must match the colour of his waistcoat. “So what do we do with virgins? We need to pop some cherries! What you have to do is dive into this plate of whipped cream and pull out seven cherries- oh! And you’re not allowed to use your hands!”

Enjolras was forced to kneel before one of the plates of whipped cream. There were no cherries visible so he had a feeling they would be hidden right at the bottom. This game was designed for him to get messy.

“And just for fun we’re going to make this a head-to-head game, with our chief going up against our one and only Frank n Furter!” Enjolras groaned in dismay as Grantaire knelt down beside him with a grin spreading from ear to ear. And when he thought things couldn’t get much worse Eponine added “And the loser has to do a forfeit!”

“Do I get to have a choice in any of this?” Enjolras asked, feeling nauseated.

“No!” came the reply from the room.

“Contestants get ready!” Eponine yelled and Enjolras turned his attention to the mass of white in front of him, submitting himself to his messy fate. “On your marks, get set- GO!”

The Amis cheered as Enjolras dived mouth first into the mass of whipped cream and came up short when the cream filled his nose and mouth. To his right he saw Grantaire had already found his first cherry so with the thought of what might happen if he lost in his mind he screwed up his eyes and dived deeper, submerging his face and finding the cherries at the bottom. He got into a good rhythm of plunging his face in, moving the cream around on the plate to find the cherries and was just going down for his sixth cherry when Eponine shouted “We have a winner!”

Opening his eyes he saw Grantaire with his final cherry clenched between his teeth, his face covered in cream but triumphant. Enjolras was aware he couldn’t look much better at this point.

“Aww, bad luck chief,” came the commiseration from Combeferre.

“You did well though,” Cosette said fairly.

“You look so attractive like that!” Grantaire winked, wiping the cream from his eyes and chewing on his cherry.

“Shut up,” Enjolras snarled, wiping away what he could of the cream with the back of his hand. Cosette handed him a towel which he took gratefully.

“Our virgin lost, therefore he must now do a forfeit,” Eponine declared.

“You're evil, he’s suffered enough already,” Jehan chipped in quietly but his voice was quickly silenced by the rest of Les Amis. They were really out for blood right now and he couldn’t help but wonder what he had done to deserve this treatment.

Still revelling in his victory, Grantaire laid down on the floor in front of him. He was quite a sight with the cream still on his lips and nose, and his corset had slipped down slightly so that a number of chest hairs peeked out suggestively. He placed his hands behind his head and opened his legs, bringing the emphasis towards his crotch underneath those silk panties, on top of which Courfeyrac placed a doughnut.

“All you have to do for your forfeit is eat the doughnut on Grantaire’s crotch!” Eponine explained wickedly.

“You’re joking,” Enjolras muttered in disgust.

“Don’t worry, I’m keeping it nice and warm for you!” Grantaire smiled up at him. Knowing none of this was going to get any better the longer he stalled, Enjolras once more sunk to his knees between Grantaire’s legs. He wasn’t sure quite what to do with his hands so he placed them on Grantaire’s knees to steady himself (trying to ignore how soft the legs were beneath his fingers with more than a hint of hair concealed within the stockings) and with one last glance heavenward he lowered his mouth to Grantaire’s crotch.

The doughnut itself was a small plain ring, easy enough to bite into, though the cream in his mouth felt disgusting and was beginning to smell on his skin. He wanted this to be over as soon as possible so he could get to the bathroom and wash it off and each bite brought him closer to the end. For his part Grantaire kept fairly still though Enjolras could feel him shaking with laughter beneath him. He knew all of the Amis must surely have their phones out taking pictures of this act.

 _For god sake, Grantaire, don’t get an erection_ , was all that Enjolras could think as he slowly reduced the doughnut between him and Grantaire’s cock.

With one last careful bite and swallow the doughnut was gone and the room cheered for him. Hands rained down on his back and shoulders as he stood up and everyone was laughing around him but he needed to get to a toilet- that doughnut was not sitting comfortably on a stomach of cheap beer and cream.

“Well done chief,” Eponine said and the room went silent. “Although, we have to say-”

“We never said you couldn’t use your hands!” They all chorused.

With that, Enjolras roughly shoved Cosette and Marius out of his path and ran for the nearest bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Rocky Horror so I couldn't resist doing this! There are 3 planned chapters for this story and I might have another look at this chapter when I have more time. Until then, enjoy!
> 
> Cast list:  
> Trixie (Usherette)- Eponine  
> Wedding Guest- Enjolras  
> Brad- Marius  
> Janet- Cosette  
> Narrator- Combeferre  
> Phantom- Jehan  
> Riff Raff- Lesgles  
> Magenta- Musichetta  
> Columbia- Joly  
> Frank n Furter- Grantaire  
> Rocky- Courfeyrac  
> Eddie- Bahorel  
> Dr Scott- Feuilly


	2. At the late night double feature Picture Show...

Enjolras made it to the bathroom in time, retching up the beer and the cream and the doughnut into the bowl. He flushed the vomit away and kneeled on the bathroom tiles, his head rested again the bath. Even though everything was up and out he didn’t feel that much better- he couldn’t be particularly drunk from the amount he’d had but the sense of embarrassment was probably the biggest contributor and he certainly wasn’t looking forward to going back downstairs any time soon to face his so-called friends.

The bathroom door swung open and he groaned when Grantaire sauntered in.

“Fuck me, that cream tasted vile!” He declared on noticing Enjolras slumped on the floor. “Why have I never worn ladies’ underwear before? It is so comfortable!” He proceeded to wash the whipped cream from his face and reapplied his red lip gloss. He smiled at his reflection and planted a kiss on the mirror.

“God, I’m too attractive for my own good!”

“Fuck off,” Enjolras sighed weakly.

“Seriously though Apollo, are you OK?”

“I’m going to go home now.”

“What?” Grantaire turned to him, his eyes filled with concern. “Is this because of the ritual? Look, I am sorry if it got a bit too intense out there, it was just meant to be a bit of harmless fun.”

“I didn’t find it particularly fun,” Enjolras muttered.

“I’m sorry,” Grantaire repeated, and he did seem to really mean it. “But you did bloody well going through with all of it.”

Enjolras stood up on shaky legs and went to leave the bathroom but Grantaire grabbed his arm. “Won’t you stay for the film? It’s only an hour till midnight and it does look like things might be quietening down out there now- nobody will question you if you sit in a corner until the end of the film.”

Enjolras bit his lip. He honestly wasn’t sure what he wanted to do now, but the puppy-dog look on Grantaire’s face did something to sway his mind. “Fine, but I’m not taking part in any more games.”

Grantaire grinned at him. “If it helps in any way, you can take that lipstick off your head now.”

Shaking his head, Enjolras said “no, it’s fine. You said I couldn’t take it off until the end of the film.”

“That’s the spirit,” Grantaire clapped him lightly on the shoulder and Enjolras smiled weakly despite himself. “Do you think you’re ready to go back downstairs?”

Enjolras considered this and nodded, his stomach feeling better though his mouth was very dry. He accepted Grantaire’s hand to steady himself, though as they went down the stairs they kept their hands clasped to stop Grantaire from toppling in his heels. He was fairly certain that Grantaire had been drinking far in excess of everybody else so how he was still standing was completely beyond his imagining.

Back in the living room, things had far from quietened down. The Amis had found the whipped cream and there was a contest between Cosette licking cream off of Marius’ chest verses Jehan licking cream off of Courfeyrac’s stomach while the others cheered them on. Grantaire took one look at the expression on Enjolras’ face and turned around.

“Let’s get another drink,” he suggested and Enjolras followed him gratefully into the kitchen. Grantaire filled a glass with water from the tap for Enjolras and plucked another beer from the fridge for himself.

“How are you even able to stand right now?”

“Practise,” Grantaire explained, taking a swig of his beer. “Something you need to work on because, no offense, but you are a frickin' lightweight.”

“Shut up. I haven’t exactly had much cause for practise lately.”

“You need to come out with us more. Stop ignoring your phone every time we try to call you out for a night.”

“I’ll try,” Enjolras said, pursing his lips. A loud cheer went up from the living room. “Sounds like someone won.”

“Do you think you’re ready to go back in yet?”

Enjolras shook his head. “Not yet.” Truth be told he preferred a more intimate setting over a big loud party, just talking to one friend rather than being lost in a sea of people whom he had no sway over at this point in time. He realised he had never been in a situation where he and Grantaire had been alone for any period of time long enough to have a proper conversation. Aside from the meetings at the Café where Grantaire would be constantly getting drunk and rebuffing his ideas by systematically explaining why they wouldn’t work, he knew next to nothing about him. Thankfully, as he found himself stuck for anything to say, Grantaire picked up the ball.

“How’s your dissertation been going? I assume that’s the reason why you’ve been Billy No-Mates lately.”

“Slowly,” Enjolras said, explaining the delicate situation of his Human Rights dissertation; how so much was researching international laws, dates, finding out what important people had said on the issue at hand and how accurate those sources were.

“If I’m honest, I kinda shot myself in the foot for choosing a matter in which the case is still open as it presents far more challenges with evidence still being presented than a shut case, but the case of Jean Valjean is very-” Enjolras noticed the way Grantaire was staring at him whilst unconsciously picking at the label on the beer bottle and caught himself. “Sorry, this must all be very boring for you-”

“No, not at all,” Grantaire said, shaking himself out of his reverie. “I was just thinking how you had that same look at that Amnesty meeting I attended- and every time afterwards whenever you grab hold of a topic that completely enthrals you it’s like you come alive with passion and fire…”

Grantaire stared at him intently with a look of wonder in his eyes and Enjolras blushed as he turned his head away, marvelling at how Grantaire brought forward these words to describe him.

“I know that look anywhere!” Courfeyrac stated boldly as he walked into the kitchen, using a towel to scrub his belly. “That’s the ‘Grantaire has found a subject whom he would very much like to paint’ face.”

Now it was Grantaire’s turn to blush red. “You put it so bluntly Courf.”

Enjolras remembered again- of course Grantaire was an Art student. It was his work to notice these things in people. “Do you have to do any exams in Art?”

“We have to do several final projects actually,” Grantaire turned back to him. “I’ve done three, but I’ve been struggling with my artistic motivation for my final project-”

“Perhaps you could ask Enjy to pose naked for you?” Courfeyrac suggested. They both looked wildly at him.

“It’s not that kind of project!” Grantaire protested quickly.

“Either way, I’ve been sent to bring you two through- you’ve been hiding out here for long enough.”

With a sense of duty between them, they followed Courfeyrac back to the living room where everyone was sat down in a more mellowed out state. Grantaire slumped down onto the sofa between Courfeyrac and Lesgle while Enjolras (feeling like he might prefer to be more grounded anyway) sat on the floor at his feet.

“God, I’ve got to take these ridiculous things off, my feet are killing me,” Grantaire declared, fumbling with the straps on his heels.

“Goddamn pussy!” Eponine called over.

“Don’t listen to her- you’d make a fine lady,” Combeferre reassured him with a wink.

“How does it feel, wearing women’s clothing?” Cosette asked slyly.

“The pants I could get used to- my balls have never felt this luxurious!” Grantaire grinned and the room groaned loudly (“Too much information!” Marius said). “And my legs,” he continued, releasing his feet from the heels and stretching his stockinged legs out in front of him. “Oh, they feel so silky and sensitive…”

His feet were right in Enjolras’ face and he wiggled his toes playfully when Enjolras pulled away in disgust. A thought crossed his mind of how he could test Grantaire’s new-found sensitivity- Enjolras stroked his fingers down the underside of his right foot. The effect was instantaneous as Grantaire let out a high pitched yelp and jerked his feet away, staring at Enjolras in wide-eyed surprise.

“You’re right- they are sensitive!” Enjolras confirmed drolly.

“What’s the matter R? Ticklish?” Courfeyrac asked, a predatory grin spreading across his face. The other Amis had picked up on his reaction as well, similar smiles growing on their faces.

“No!” Grantaire squeaked in reply but they could all tell it was a lie. It was all Enjolras could do to dive out of the way as the room descended- Joly and Lesgle held Grantaire’s arms above his head while Feuilly brushed his fingers up and down his armpits, Eponine and Cosette dug their fingers in under the corset to get to his stomach and pinch his sides, Bahorel squeezed his kneecaps and Combeferre kept his ankles pinned while Courfeyrac attacked his feet. For his part Grantaire could only shriek with laughter, his back arching off the sofa in an effort to get away from the wiggling fingers all over his body.

“Stop! Please! Ah-ha-haa-ha! Enjolras, stop them- ah!” he screamed, his cheeks wet with tears and his laughter was golden music to their ears. After Enjolras’ earlier humiliation he wasn’t able to feel overly guilty about the sudden turn of affairs and felt no rush for it to stop anytime soon.

“Do you mind if I…?” Enjolras said to Musichetta, pointing to her feather duster. She grinned and handed it over. Enjolras turned back to Grantaire who spied the duster and began begging frantically. Feuilly saw what he was up to, moved out of his way and Enjolras plunged the duster into the exposed armpits.

Grantaire’s laughter reached a new volume as the feather duster flicked wickedly over any visible flesh on his underarms and neck. Cosette and Eponine backed off in admiration.

“Woah, the chief has turned evil!”Joly whistled, he and Lesgle using their whole weight between them to pin his wrists. With Enjolras up top and Courfeyrac keeping up the onslaught on his heels and arches, Grantaire was reduced to a screaming mess on the sofa.

“Ha-ha! No! Stop! I’m gonna piss myself!” Grantaire managed to gasp after several minutes and Enjolras finally eased up.

“OK, he’s had enough now,” he told the others and Courfeyrac stopped too, no doubt worrying about the state of his sofa if he did end up wetting himself.

With his limbs released, Grantaire curled up into a protective ball, still giggling as ticklish spasms ran through his body. The Amis returned laughing to their seats and Enjolras took the opportunity to steal Lesgle’s spot on the sofa next to Grantaire. After a moment he opened his eyes and glared up at Enjolras. “I hate you,” he muttered weakly.

“I know,” Enjolras replied, draping a protective arm over him. He inched slowly into a sitting position.

“Shall we put the film on now?” Jehan suggested and was met with approval. Bahorel handed out props while Courfeyrac sorted out the DVD and player. As the clock on the mantelpiece struck midnight the screen was filled by a set of singing red lips.

The Amis provided most of the harmonies and backing vocals to the songs and when the Narrator appeared they began what seemed like the second half of a conversation with him which carried on into the next scenes, their call backs ranging from random to more lewd (“ _I’m coming with you_.” “That’ll be a first!”) and all Enjolras could do was sit back and watch them, not knowing the appropriate call backs himself.

He took his lead from the other Amis regarding when to put the newspaper on his head (narrowly avoiding being flicked with water by Feuilly) and when to wave the flashlight on his phone, and he did a fair job of keeping up with the dance moves in the Time Warp (Bahorel managed not to punch a light this time).

During the next song Grantaire put his heels back on and pranced around the living room, strutting and thrusting in time with Frank n Furter on the screen, declaring himself to be a “Sweet Transvestite from Transsexual Transylvaniaaa- ha ha!”

The Amis whooped as he stood before them with his hands on his hips and this time Enjolras felt compelled to cheer along with them, getting into the spirit of the song. “I see you shiver with anticip-”

“SAY IT!” They all roared.

“Pation!”

He finished the song to applause and sat back down next to Enjolras, draping his legs over his lap. Enjolras allowed Grantaire to keep his legs there for a moment before growling quietly “I will tickle your feet if necessary.”

The legs rapidly vanished from his lap but as Grantaire sat up he gave Enjolras’ knee a quick cheeky squeeze and their arms remained touching, their bodies pressed together on the crowded sofa.

Enjolras had around a hundred questions running through his mind as he watched the film -why were Brad and Janet in their underwear? Why had Eddie been killed after only one song? What was the purpose of creating Rocky wearing gold hot pants? - but he kept them to himself.

It didn’t help that at several points he found himself ignoring the film and focusing more on the man sat next to him. Grantaire watched the film with an easy air. His expression was soft, his square jaw set with his lips parted in a slight smile and his bushy eyebrows arched high over his blue eyes. His black hair fell about his face in tousled waves from being thrown around on the sofa and the corset had become loose, revealing touchable skin.

Enjolras turned his attention back to the film before anyone caught him staring, but he left his hand by his side so that the backs of his fingers were ever so slightly brushing the soft silk stockings. What he wouldn’t give to brush his hands up and down those legs, to feel them around his waist-

Enjolras suddenly caught himself. Was he having sexual fantasies about Grantaire? Or was it the costume that was doing it for him? Either way it was inappropriate to be having these thoughts as surely these one sided feelings could only be a burden to himself, to his work and to Grantaire…

With a heart wrenching effort he took his hand away from Grantaire’s leg and clasped it firmly in his own lap.

Somehow drawn away from the film by this action, Grantaire made as if to stretch his arms above his head but as he brought them down he draped one arm over Enjolras’ shoulders, pulling him in closer. Enjolras looked at him in alarm and Grantaire simply turned his head to him, shrugged, then turned away again. Enjolras had no idea what this meant but after a moment he placed his hand carefully back on Grantaire’s leg.


	3. Give yourself over to absolute pleasure

The film finished some time before 2am and amid the post show discussion as they tried to explain what had just happened to Enjolras most of their group dispersed; Marius and Cosette slipped away discretely, Combeferre muttered darkly about a lecture he had in seven hours time, Joly, Lesgle and Musichetta ordered a taxi and Courfeyrac disappeared upstairs with Jehan (who had been staring adoringly at Courfeyrac’s body throughout the whole of the film. It was rather clear from the noises through the ceiling what they were up to now). Eponine had also sloped off unnoticed at some point.

Enjolras -the red lipstick on his forehead finally wiped off in a symbol that he’d lost his Rocky Horror virginity- sat on the sofa between Grantaire and Bahorel while Feuilly sat by them in his wheelchair (which he had persuaded Joly to let him hold onto for the night. To what purpose none of them quite knew).

Though he struggled to understand some of the finer points of the film, despite Bahorel answering all his questions, there was one thing that Rocky Horror had stirred in him- a sudden desire for men in woman’s lingerie. He had never considered it before as he had never felt any particular cardinal needs or desires yet there was certainly something there now. Or perhaps it was only because of the sexy Frank n Furter sat so close to him and who still had his arm draped across his shoulders.

Enjolras’s mind raced as he tried to make sense of how he was feeling. He felt rather desperate to get out of there to the safety and distance of his own room, especially since his cock was stirring against the zip on his trousers desperate to be answered.

“Chief, are you OK?” Bahorel asked when he had been quiet for some time.

“Hm? Yes, I’m just getting rather tired is all,” Enjolras lied easily and Feuilly gave a yawn to help emphasise the point.

“Good idea. Do you need to be taken home granddad or should I wheel you out into the garden shed for the night?” Bahorel addressed Feuilly who seemed to have every intention of falling asleep in his chair. He nodded sleepily so Bahorel stood up, wheeled the chair towards the door and bid them farewell.

“Do you want me to see you out to make sure you don’t nick anything?” Grantaire slurred as he attempted to stand up, yet the many drinks he had consumed throughout the night seemed to have finally taken effect as he buckled over in his heels and face planted into Enjolras’s lap, which didn’t do anything to help his current predicament as his cock twitched impatiently.

“Do you need a hand up the stairs?” Enjolras asked gruffly when Grantaire tried once more to stand up, placing a heavy hand on his thigh in an effort in balance himself.

“What? Let you come up to my room on a first date? Honey, _I’ve only ever kissed before_!” Grantaire protested, mockingly quoting the film. “Oh well, if you insist- _come up to my lab and see what’s on the slab_!”

Enjolras scowled but nonetheless pulled one of Grantaire’s arms over his shoulder so he was half carrying him slowly up the stairs. “You’re a real fucking pill.”

“Mm, it’s like Charles Atlas has taken me by the hand! Look, you don’t have to answer if it offends you but the way you reacted earlier in the kitchen- well, are you a virgin?” Grantaire asked curiously.

“Certainly not- I watched Rocky Horror not ten minutes ago!” Enjolras replied lightly. Grantaire scoffed.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I am,” he said, somewhat stiffly. ‘It’s not something I’m overly bothered about, nor is it a religious thing-”

“ _You thought there’s no use getting into heavy petting,_ ” Grantaire sang tauntingly. “ _It only leads to trouble and... seat wetting_!”

Enjolras glared at him as best he could from his position. “No. I’ve just never felt that way about anybody before.”

“Oh.” Grantaire’s brow creased in deep thought. Enjolras ran over what he had said and realised the meaning that could be placed onto his words- when he’d said before could he have meant before now? It was a question burning in his mind and made his breath heavy as he guided the man around the corner.

On the small landing Grantaire pushed open one of the three doors (one of them Enjolras recognised as the bathroom he had thrown up in earlier and beyond the other he could hear Courfeyrac and Jehan) and Enjolras guided him into his bedroom. Despite his urgency to leave he found himself intrigued by the room, so different and disorderly compared to his own neatly organised bedroom in his shared flat with Combeferre and Jehan. There was a light mess covering every surface; a mix of paints, brushes, make up and empty glass bottles filled with ash and fag butts, clothes on the floor which had been thrown in the general direction of the laundry basket and his blankets left on the floor from where he must have crawled out of the double bed the previous day. He could just about make out shelves stacked with university library reference books though they had become somewhat outnumbered by the DVD and videogame collection and a TV stood against the wall opposite the bed.

In the middle of it all stood the creator of the room, the only one who could perceive any kind of order to the chaos about him. Grantaire had taken off the heels and cast them into a corner and had begun tugging at the ribbons on the back of the corset in an effort to free himself from its clutches but in his current state his fingers quickly became entangled as he could not see what he was doing. Taking pity on him, Enjolras stepped forward.

“Do you need some help with that?” He offered. When Grantaire didn’t answer he ordered “Come here.”

For his part Grantaire stood as still as he was able to, swaying slightly as Enjolras plucked his hands away from the ribbons and set to work himself on loosening the stiff velvet corset. Starting at the bottom where they had been tied he untangled the knot and loosened the ribbons from the bottom up, Grantaire taking a deep breath as his chest was given space to move more freely.

“How the hell did you get into this thing?” Enjolras asked as he made his way up.

“Eponine had to tie me in,” Grantaire explained. “For the most part I could get used to women’s lingerie but this bloody thing is so fucking godawful! Same goes for those heels- there is a place in hell reserved for the person who made those shoes!”

“You look great though,” Enjolras said, surprising even himself with his loose tongue. Grantaire swelled proudly, puffing his chest out and filling out the corset again.

“Then the approval of Apollo is all I need to make the endeavour worthwhile.”

Enjolras returned to the base of the corset to loosen the ribbons once again and as he did so the back of his hands rested on the underwear- satin covered two firm mounds, stretched across them to create one soft peach... Enjolras shuddered as he left the ribbons and grasped Grantaire’s hips firmly, pulling his cheeks backwards to meet his straining length. Grantaire went still and tense in his hands. “Grantaire, I- I’m sorry, I need...” Enjolras’s voice was breathy and heavy on the back of the other man’s neck and he paused, suddenly fearful he might have misread the signals, or else his advances would not be returned.

Grantaire turned to face him and as he did so he ground his hips against Enjolras’s erection, causing him to gasp in surprise.

“Is this what you need?”

His tone was deliberate and inviting. Enjolras raised a cautious hand and ran his thumb along his painted cheekbone, enjoying the way the black line smudged into the white foundation. He saw in blue eyes his own eyes reflected back, diluted with innocent wonder and lust. Grantaire responded by placing his hand delicately on the back of his neck, pulling Enjolras forward and pressing a tender kiss on his lips.

At first Enjolras stiffened, surprised despite his need but after a moment he relaxed his jaw, prompting Grantaire to run his tongue suggestively along his pursed lips. His own inexperience ceased to matter as this beautiful, sexy man ran his hands through Enjolras’s soft golden curls and nipped along his lips with his teeth, drawing out gasps which coaxed his mouth open so that Grantaire’s tongue was able to flick eagerly against teeth and with a bit more coaxing found his tongue. Enjolras placed a firm hand on the back of the corset, their hips bucked together and Grantaire’s own erection quite prominent as it strained against the satin underwear.

Grantaire set to work undoing the buttons on the red waistcoat and shirt, exposing his bare muscular chest to the air, discarding the garments on the floor and gasped as Enjolras sucked and nibbled at the base of his neck, seeking to mark the skin against his collarbone.

Enjolras found himself enjoying the press of the corset against his bare flesh, the boning digging slightly into his own ribs as Grantaire guided him backwards so that he was lying down on the bed, those stocking-clad legs finally against his skin now that they were straddling his waist as he climbed on top of him.

Tugging teasingly at the zip, Grantaire slowly pulled his trousers down around his knees before looking up at Enjolras, searching for some form of misgiving in his eyes but on finding none he carefully pulled down his pants, revealing his hard cock.

“I can’t believe...” Grantaire murmured softly.

“It’s OK, please,” Enjolras whispered.

He took Enjolras’s erect cock in hand, causing him to rock his hips involuntarily up into his palm. With one final glance up into his eyes, Grantaire placed his hands on Enjolras’s thighs and took him into his mouth. Enjolras gasped as he was engulfed in the wet warmth, the gentle caress of his tongue running up and down his length and he let himself give in to the new overwhelming sensations, the odd feeling of intoxication rushing over him again and again in a far more pleasurable way than drink had ever made him feel.

Closing his eyes, Grantaire relaxed his jaw and took the full length into his throat then pulled back, causing Enjolras’s arse to rise up off the sheets, incoherent cries escaping from his mouth, his hips bucking upwards and the trousers around his knees restricting his movement. He clutched at black curls, guiding him back down. Grantaire hummed appreciatively, the vibrations sending shockwaves up through Enjolras’s spine making him moan and clutch at the pillow.

“ _Grantaire_!” he moaned, his voice strained as he felt a tightening in his stomach, quickly being brought to a point. “Grantaire, I’m going to-”

Though he tugged at Grantaire’s hair he grunted slightly, keeping his head down in an indication that it was alright. Enjolras’s whole body shook as he came with a sharp cry of “Grantaire!” spending himself into Grantaire’s mouth which he accepted, swallowing swiftly.

Enjolras laid there utterly exhausted on the sheets, breathing heavily and looking to Grantaire like a fallen angel with his golden curls plastered like a halo around his head. Drinking in the sight before turning away, Grantaire pulled down his satin underwear and took his own erection in hand, but as he started there was a shift on the bed as Enjolras sat up behind him.

“Allow me,” he said quietly.

“But-” He took Grantaire in hand despite his short-lived protest. Enjolras wrapped his fingers around the base and ran his fingers in a ring smoothly up and down from base to tip and Grantaire begged in whispered moans. “Is this OK?” he asked, unsure of what he was doing.

“Yes, _oh god yes,_ ” Grantaire sighed with each stroke. It wasn’t long until he shuddered and came with a moan, spending himself over his lap. He relaxed against Enjolras’s chest, their laboured breathing gradually easing out.

“That was...” Enjolras murmured, attempting to string his thoughts back together in a coherent manner.

“Yeah,” was all Grantaire could add to that. They stayed in complete contention for a few moments longer before Enjolras gave a slight shift and Grantaire reached for the tissues to clean himself up.

“Do- do you mind if I stay here tonight?” Enjolras asked as Grantaire pulled off the soiled garter belt and cast it onto the floor to be quickly followed by the corset and stockings.

“Of course not,” Grantaire looked surprised by the request. “I will warn you, I’ll probably be hungover like a bitch in the morning.”

“I’m sure it will come back to you,” Enjolras said, pulling off his own pants and trouser. Grantaire gave a short laugh and when Enjolras laid down on the bed Grantaire pulled the blankets over them both and curled up into his chest, his Apollo’s lips nuzzling the back of his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and gentlemen I bring you smut! This is the first time I've written something like this before (and I'm posting from a different computer so sorry if the format is different to the other chapters) so any feedback appreciated.  
> There will be more e/R works as soon as I've dealt with life!


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